


Pendulum's Resolve

by bluebells



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebells/pseuds/bluebells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam doesn't want to upset the delicate balance between his brothers, but said brothers have stubbornness issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pendulum's Resolve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



"Trust us," Sam and Dean ask him.

Since his brothers found him four months ago, he's been sinking under the weight of an invisible yoke only growing heavier each day. He sees the way they murmur and shake their heads when they think he isn't looking, when he should be out of earshot. 

“He can't handle it,” is the protest he keeps hearing. 

Adam watches the steam rise from their dinner on the motel table to avoid the worried glance his brothers exchange, then the relieved sigh when he nods without a word.

He runs inside the hour.

He makes it two hours before they find him hitch-hiking down the highway, knee-deep in snow with a small rucksack tight against his shoulder. 

Damn it. He rolls his eyes when they pull over beside him.

"Adam, what the hell are you doing?" Dean slams the door behind him as Sam also climbs from the car.

"Making an early break." Adam shrugs, apparently ignorant or uncaring of the fact he swore he would put his faith in them. 

"Adam, it's below freezing out here. You _can't_ be out. If you want to go your own way --" 

"'M not waiting." Adam grits his teeth around the tremor in his throat. He turns on his heel, but Dean's call pulls him back before he can cover another step.

"Waiting for what?"

"Adam, we can help you," Sam says quickly. "Not like this, but if you need to leave, we understand."

"Like hell. Adam, get in the car!" Dean barks, and it feels like a physical strike between Adam's shoulders. His eyes burn and he swipes angrily at the hot tear that escapes when Sam appeals again.

"Come on, Adam. Please just talk to us. Come back with us tonight."

The Winchester curse didn't just end because Death had found them. Death claimed and begrudgingly released every one of them more than once, a fact Adam was painfully aware of.

Adam struggles to swallow the lump in his throat before answering. "With or without you, it's bad news for me." 

"He's probably right," Dean mutters under his breath, but Adam hears him. 

His brothers are huddled close in the Impala's headlights when he turns, and they straighten with interest.

"I'm not waiting around for you two lugheads to remember what really matters to you. I'm done playing house. If you're hanging around out of some guilt complex, please, go feed the homeless."

"Adam, _you're_ homeless."

"If I'm going to end up on my own again, it's going to be on _my_ terms," Adam says, hands shaking. "I'm not waiting."

"Adam." Dean sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Hitch-hiking is a bad idea."

Dean doesn't bother acknowledging any of the things Adam just said. Dean sighs wearily like Adam is the brat trying his patience and keeping Dean from his warm pad thai back at the motel. Adam regrets looking to Sam. He crumbles at the contrition he sees there.

"Adam...." Sam shakes his head.

All Sam has to do is hold out his hand and then Adam finds himself being pulled into the backseat. Adam's boots trail the snow and Sam draws Adam against his chest as much as Adam will let him.

"Your skin is like ice." Sam warms Adam's hands between his. Adam can't look him in the eye.

The Impala rumbles beneath them and then Dean is throwing open the passenger door in the motel parking lot to snatch Adam's bag, scowling darkly.

Adam is quick to pull away from Sam, seeing that look.

 _He can't handle it._

This is what he's been afraid of: Dean has boundaries and Adam is overstepping them all because he's let Sam drag him in, but it has to stop. At least until the snow lets up and then Adam will be out of their way onto somewhere the weather never falls below ninety degrees and he won't feel Dean's cold glare on his back.

Sam runs the hot water in the bath before Adam can stop him. That's when he realises he's shaking so hard from cold that he has to fold his arms against his stomach.

It doesn't take much coaxing to make him strip down and climb in the water. It hurts at first, like sinking into a hot gel of needles, but convection begins its work, and Adam shudders, slowly rubbing feeling back into his arms. 

He doesn't expect Sam to climb in behind him. Adam forgets to stop him.

Sam sponges hot water on the crown of his head like some sombre benediction and warms Adam with the barrel of his chest. Adam lets himself sink back between the bracket of Sam's thighs, but all he can think about is Dean somewhere on the other side of that door.

His fingers curl around Sam’s knees, trying to hold in the cold tremors. Sam wraps an arm around his waist and absently rubs his stomach, thumb skimming the wet skin above Adam’s navel as the water trickles down his chest. 

Sam is so warm against his back.

Adam can’t hear a sound from the other side of that door. Every drop of water into the bath is like a gunshot, and Adam is shivering from other reasons than the cold. He consciously relaxes his grip on Sam, and lets the fading cold hide his reaction when Sam’s soft exhale tickles hot behind his ear. He turns over his hands, sees the colour’s returned to his fingers, and doesn’t say anything about the erection he can feel pressing against his back.

He splashes his face with water from the tub, cooling quickly now.

Sam doesn’t stop Adam when he pushes forward onto his knees to climb out as quickly and smoothly as he can, trailing water everywhere. His legs almost give out beneath him, but the porcelain sink supports his weight when he flails for purchase. He quickly wraps a towel around himself.

Sam is watching him carefully when Adam glances back. No disappointment, no contrition, only concern. The fringes of his long, dark hair are matted wet, his skin still gleaming in every place Adam leaned against him and the water ran between their bodies.

The heat warms Adam’s cheeks and he has to look away.

“Adam?” Sam’s voice is gentle, like fingertips on Adam's wrist.

“I feel better,” Adam says. “Thanks, Sam.”

The motel room is so much colder without the steam of the bathroom.

Dean looks up from his seat on the edge of the bed, vibrating with tension. Adam almost backtracks in the heat of that glower. 

“Don't you want to live?” Dean asks tightly.

“What kind of dumb question is that?” Adam shoots back.

Dean rises to his feet with a dark scowl. Adam can smell the winter cold on his jacket, and he shivers.

“We're not losing you again,” Dean says. “After everything we – “ His jaw grinds and his chin drops to his chest before he can look Adam in the eye again, no less angry, but his fists have unclenched by his sides. “Your best chance is with us.”

Adam narrows his eyes at Dean's aggressive hunch. “I don't trust those odds.”

“Don't run again.”

The order incites an unexpected thrill low in his gut. Adam's hand tightens on the hem of his towel. “Why would I promise that?”

“I'm not asking you.”

Adam blinks at his eldest brother, chest tightening at the implication. But it isn't fear that makes his palms sweat and his breaths come short. Dean's hard gaze doesn't waver, and all Adam can think is _no, I'm not backing down....._

“And what if I run?” he dares.

The bathroom door shuts with a scraping thud of chipwood and Sam stands at his back. The top buttons of his jeans are open, his hair is still wet and he hasn't bothered to find a shirt.

“You're our baby brother,” Dean says. The motel carpet swallows the sound of his boots as he closes the distance between them. The open zip of his jacket grazes Adam's stomach, cold and sharp. “You're our responsibility.”

“I'm not--”

“Adam, you're shaking,” Sam interrupts softly. His fringe falls across his forehead when he nods towards the bed. “Get under the sheets.”

Adam studies Sam's unreadable patience, confused. Sam's mouth purses in that small grimace again, the one that hates to ask, but always does. 

The softness in Sam's voice hides the fact he's giving Adam an order, but with Dean there are no pretences. It doesn't bristle like Adam thought it would.

Instead, with a lightness that could be relief, Adam finds himself nodding along. He tells himself he only settles back into the bed because he feels so unsteady. The cold is still under his skin, and it makes his head heavy. 

He can't find the words to question or protest when Sam draws the covers back and climbs in with him. The return of Sam's heat along his back tangles his fingers in the sheets, but he's too busy watching Dean kick off his boots, throwing his jacket and jeans down on the other bed before he stands by the bedside.

He meets Adam's eyes with a narrowed question, one last chance. Instead, Adam pulls the covers back and lets Sam draw him closer, making space for Dean to slide in beside them.

Sam reaches for the nightstand and the bedroom is eclipsed in dark.

It's a shock how cold Dean is under Adam's hands. Dean huffs a tight sound and lets Adam lie along his side, rubbing circles of warmth over his sternum under the sheets.

Adam falls asleep to the pulse of Dean's heart under his wrist and Sam's quiet snores tickling the hair on his neck.

He only wakes once during the night, flushed and dehydrated, but Dean is already there, hushing him as he pushes a glass of water into Adam's hand. When it's gone, Sam tugs them both back down to the pillows, sleepy and bear-fisted. Adam slots so firmly between them and his heart skips a beat the first time Dean's mouth lowers to his neck.

In the morning, they miss their check-out time.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [at Livejournal.](http://users.livejournal.com/_bluebells/68874.html)


End file.
